Trinity
by Tolakasa
Summary: The opposition muses on her plans. Spoilers for 3.12.


**Disclaimer:** I only wish they were all mine.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for "Jus in Bello"; wild speculation.**

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Trinity 

Time is growing short. I can feel it in my blood. I need them, and I need them on my side.

No one but the Lord of Hell can control the demon hordes for long. This is why they have split into factions, one for Sam, one for me, and a third group who are—perhaps very wisely—simply sitting back and waiting to see who wins, and maybe take advantage of their quarreling rivals' lack of attention to enrich their own coffers. Since Lucifer has vanished, there is no Lord of Hell; unless the power is consolidated, and soon, all restrictions on demonkind will vanish, and they will overrun the earth.

Years ago, Lucifer, sensing that his time was ending, sought to create a successor. He stole a thousand unborn souls from Heaven, bound them to Hell, and ensured their births in human bodies; being embodied in such a way made us a thousand times more powerful than any mere demon, and being bound to Hell made us more inclined to evil. True evil, after all, requires a soul, which demons no longer have.

Azazel, sensing that Lucifer was weak, sought out the souls in their new bodies on Earth, tainting them with his own blood, awakening their powers early, binding them to him as well as Hell.

Neither plan was foolproof. Half the children died in their cribs, mortal bodies unable to contain their powers, the deaths written off as SIDS. More died due to natural childhood attrition, some in the very fires Azazel sparked to kill their eyewitness mothers. I was one who died, long ago, killed when I dashed into the street without looking.

Those who died young went on to wherever the chosen of Lucifer are destined to go, but Azazel had other plans for me. I was reborn, to a follower of his, after a one-night-stand, two decades younger than all the other children. My father never knew of my existence, but then, he was something of a womanizer. He never saw my mother again.

Well, not that he knew it was her. But then, she _had_ changed a bit, used the gifts Azazel lavished onto her after my birth to create a new identity and establish herself as the world's premier thief of occult objects. She had little to do with the raising of me, but that was as Azazel wished, as everything in my life was, down to my name, which once belonged to a woman he loved.

Then Azazel died. Lucifer hides, hoarding his fading power, and cannot be found. The power of Hell awaits claiming.

The demons call Sam the "boy prince" and the "hunter who would be king." There is no respect there, only fear, fear of the powers he still denies, fear of what his brother might do—fear of what might happen once Dean is in Hell, which will undoubtedly be a bad day for Hell and Sam alike. Unlike Sam, I have always known what I am, what I am meant to be, and have embraced it; I have their respect, if not the loyalty of all.

Yet.

Demons know only destruction, as fish know only water; it is a limitation bred into them. Ruby, and those like her, cannot comprehend that I want Sam for any reason other than to destroy the competition. It's what they would do, and they cannot understand that I am not like them.

Oh, I kill. I've killed demons and humans, innocent and guilty, pure and tainted alike. I know what Sam and Dean do not: that it is far, far preferable to end a few lives in the here and now than to risk the life of the universe itself.

But that's not why I want the Winchesters.

The souls that Lucifer stole are as siblings; Sam is thus the brother of my soul. I want only to protect him from the demons who would kill him in my name for the powers he has already renounced in everything but name, the power I know he will willingly renounce to save Dean.

Dean I must save from himself, as so many others—including Sam—have tried to do; no good daughter would wish to consign her father to the Pit. He will not want to believe it, of course, but if Dean has a weakness that is not named _Sam_, it is children. _That_ is why my flesh is two decades younger than my siblings. Azazel was a careful schemer.

Father, mother, brother: a trinity of blood, a tripod to hold me stable in my rule. Family. I will have my family, and I will have them around me, and I will have them loyal to me.

Father, mother, brother.

Dean. Bela. Sam.

**_the end_**


End file.
